ethereal ;

#ⱧØⱠⱠØ₩ⱤɄł₦ ↝ an independent & private roleplay blog for [ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵐᵘˢᵉˢ] from several different fandoms and also fandomless. featuring original characters, and canons. canons are written as being C̳A̳N̳O̳N̳ ̳D̳I̳V̳E̳R̳G̳E̳N̳T̳ . there will be 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 & 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 material ahead. this blog is not meant for minors. 𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚈 ¹ + 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈. possible triggers: violence, mental illness, blood & gore, manipulation, grief, death, & sexual themes. follow with caution and protect your space however you need to. 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 ⁽ ᴴᴱ/ᴴᴵᴹ, ᵀᵂᴱᴺᵀʸ ⁸ ⁾ . memes are used as starters so please feel free to continue them. that is the best way to interact with me! always specify muse or fandom, please. very original character & crossover friendly.

like 🅰 🅶🅷🅾🆂🆃 , hollow bones , you're [𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘]. i can see ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ you built in your sheets. i hope you lie in your bed thinking 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖊.

GOOGLE SLIDES. + PINTEREST.

⊰ @inqisita , plotted ⊱  there is nothing that compares to the thrill of a hunt. as arrow lets loose, there is tension as one waits to either hit their mark or miss completely. it was rare that alysanne's arrows did the latter. when the arrow lodges itself into the doe's neck, a smile of victory rests on her expression. the young noble strides inside of winterfell with her game resting on the back of her horse. the doe was pretty large for what it was. it was going to make a hearty meal, she claimed as a servant came to collect her horse.

riding gloves are taken off and discarded, then brown mane is let loose. her curls draped along her back. lady alysanne attempts to see if her husband is nearby. mother had wished being married would help her to chase more womanly pursuits, but alysanne's 'odd' behavior is what caught the interest of lord stark anyway. if lord stark had tried to confine her to winterfell's walls and an embroidery hoop, it would have not ended well for him. cregan is not seen as he was probably looking over battle plans or other things that needed his immediate attention. it was no bother as being a lord called for certain duties.

⊰ @dragonthroned , plotted ⊱  the sword, presently in its sheath, is an extension of herself. what would she be without it? married to a man who would drink all their coin and then thrust himself upon her like a savage beast. she has seen good and powerful women fall prey to their husband's desires. that would never be her. joining the war effort kept her protected from such a fate, even if it did come with an added danger. the danger not only lay in the battles that she participated in, but also in the discovery of her gender. men have been beheaded for less.

jo walks with shoulder back and head held high as she draws nearer to where lord rhaegar resided. head and eyes are always on a swivel in an attempt to look out for anyone who would try to harm her charge. some had told her, even her father, that she is on the wrong side of the war. that was a matter of perspective. jo does not question who her charge is and what has been done by his hands. they could be stained bloody and she would wipe them clean and ask if the necessary men have been killed.

the knight dismisses those who have taken the night shift before announcing her presence with a knock and, once given permission, she enters. hello, my lord. her fingers move steadily with precision as she signs the greeting. the charade she lives with kept in place for a moment as she found herself getting more comfortable communicating with her hands and expression. he is not someone that she needs to play pretend with. her secrets were his now. what he chose to do with them was up to the lady of fate and him. jo cleared her throat as if the words had been stuck there in the middle. eyes survey the setting around them and there was no sign of anyone but him.

⊰ @mccnss , prompt: 'try not to abuse your power.' ⊱ power must be given to those who would wield it. she has come across many who are too afraid of their abilities. it was a waste. the witch had been minding her own business, gathering herbs to buy for a spell. pressed to her palm was rosemary and mandrake. her daughter stays at the small inn they have bartered shelter at. the chaos in delilah's veins needed to be controlled before she could be around others. hence, the herbs.

it was all so sudden. one moment, she pulls out coin to pay and the next, feels a hand at her backside. the man who touches her is swaying and reeks of alcohol. come back to my place, honey. he whispers what he believes he will do to her in her ear. rage is potent in her veins. lips open to whisper an incantation that has the man backing away forcefully. the scum chokes on air. mikhaila turns to watch as he scratches at his throat, struggling to breathe. the fool ends up on his knees with watery bloodshot eyes and the look of terror upon expression. the shopkeeper tries to assist, but no one can figure out what is wrong. the invisible hand around his throat tightens until he is unconscious on the ground.

⊰ @eldeir , ♡ ⊱  he would not be the first to despise or disobey his creator. a feeling such as that can be recorded since the biblical age. to be made is to be cursed with life / to live life is to be cursed with hunger. blood was not the only source for his personal agony, but having to endure another day with himself. looking in the mirror became too painful. the creature staring back at him, with pale face and two black holes for eyes, was disgusting. how could god claim to love him and then allow him to be turned into this?

edward heard rumors of a place where newborns could learn control. seeing as carlisle's method was to shove the bitter taste of a doe or fox's blood down his throat, the people at this court of dreams couldn't do anything worse. ( at least he hoped not. ) he approaches, bouncing on his heels for a moment and shoving both hands into his pockets. there were no words in his vocabulary to describe how beautiful the palace was on the outside. edward had always been a fan of architecture. humanity has done many ugly things, but there are moments of creative clarity.